The Husband She Can't Remember

Evelyn’s Point of View

The fire in the marble hearth crackled softly, spitting the occasional spark. Beneath me, the hand-woven wool rug was rough against my bare shoulders, and above me, his body was a solid, burning line against mine. We were tangled together, breath traded back and forth until I couldn't tell whose was whose.

My fingers plucked blindly at the collar of my dress.

"Mm... it's so hot."

It was a suffocating heat, the kind that crawled under my skin and stole the air from my lungs. I was panting, my skin slick with sweat, my body swaying helplessly in the firelight.

"Stop squirming." A man’s voice was cold and clipped, but his eyes weren't. They moved over my face, studying every inch of it, and the darkness in them deepened.

"But I'm burning up," I whispered. My eyes stung, and I pouted at him without meaning to.

"It really is you." His gaze stayed clear, but his voice had dropped, roughened by the effort of holding himself in check. His calloused fingertips traced my cheek, my brow, my jaw, as if confirming it. "Evelyn Hart."

Then he kissed me, and every touch of his mouth was a spark on dry kindling, lighting me up until I shivered. His rough thumb brushed my skin, and I melted. I strained to bring his face into focus, half answering, half confused. "Hm?"

He was breathing hard, his jaw clenched. "Don't move. I don't want to hurt you."

My body went taut. Instinct took over, and I looped my arms around his neck and pulled myself toward the cool of him. My lips grazed his.

"You're cold," I breathed. "That feels so good."

I sounded like a child, innocent and half-lost, but I knew the look on my face was anything but. Something in that contradiction undid him.

"Evelyn." His forehead pressed to mine. "Tell me to stop, and I will."

"Don't," I whispered. "Please."

The next kiss crashed over me. It was possessive, tender, and aching all at once, so many feelings poured into it that I came apart under it, a small sound escaping me. "Ah..."

"You walked right into this," he murmured against my lips, his thumb tracing the curve of my mouth. His eyes had gone deep and black, a pull I couldn't have escaped if I'd tried. "Don't blame me if I can't let you go now."

I squirmed, restless and unsure, and my voice came out thin and trembling. "It hurts... I feel so strange."

I felt the shudder go through him, the tight swallow in his throat as his control wavered and finally slipped. Then he stopped. Everything in him went still.

A sharp pain went through me, and the flush drained from my face. I pushed against his chest and curled in on myself.

When I dared look up, Sebastian's eyes were wide with shock. Then, slowly, shock gave way to something I could hardly believe, a wild, trembling joy. His hands shook as he cupped my face, and he kissed me again and again, gently, kissing the tears from the corners of my eyes and the hurt from my expression.

He pulled me against his chest and held me there, so close I could feel his heart pounding. "Evie," he whispered. "My Evie." Every syllable was soaked in tenderness. "Easy now. It'll only hurt for a moment."

His voice was so soft it could have melted me all over again.